the songwriter’s dead. the blade fell upon him taking him to the white lands of empathica, of innocence empathica innocence

[part 2: home]

the dreamer and the wine poet without a rhyme a widow writer torn apart by chains of h*ll

one last perfect verse it’s still the same old song oh christ, how i hate what i have become

take me home

[chorus:] get away, run away, fly away lead me astray to dreamer’s hideaway i cannot cry ’cause the shoulder cries more i cannot die, i, a wh*r* for this cold world forgive me, i have but two faces one for the world, one for god, save me i cannot cry ’cause the shoulder cries more i cannot die, i, a wh*r* for this cold world

my home was there and then, those meadows of heaven adventure-filled days one with every smiling face

please, no more words thoughts from a severed head no more praise, tell me once my heart goes right

tuck me in beneath the blue beneath the pain, beneath the rain goodnight kiss for a child in time swaying blade my lullaby

on the sh*r* we sat and hoped under the same pale moon whose guiding light chose you, chose you all

“i’m afraid, i’m so afraid. being raped, again and again, and again i know i will die alone but loved.

you live long enough to hear the sounds of guns, long enough to find yourself screaming every night, live long enough to see your friends betray you.

for years i’ve been strapped unto this altar. now i only have three minutes and counting. i just wish the tide would catch me first and give me a death i always longed for.”

[part 4: dark p*ssion play]

2nd robber to the right of christ cut in half – infanticide the world will rejoice today as the crows feast on the rotting poet

everyone must bury their own no pack to bury the heart of stone now he`s home in h*ll, serves him well slain by the bell, tolling for his farewell

the morning dawned upon his altar remains of the dark p*ssion play performed by his friends without shame spitting on his grave as they came

[chorus]

“today, in the year of our lord, 2005 tuomas was called from the cares of the world he stopped crying at the end of each beautiful day. the music he wrote had too long been without silence. he was found naked and dead, with a smile in his face, a pen and 1000 pages of erased text.”

save me

[part 5: mother and father]

be still, my son you`re home oh when did you become so cold? the blade will keep on descending all you need is to feel my love

search for beauty, find your sh*r* try to save them all, bleed no more you have such oceans within in the end, i will always love you